


When your dream neurons fire all weird and reveal your repressed bisexual thoughts

by oolongteawithpudding



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond - All Media Types, Skyfall (2012)
Genre: Dreams, Light Bondage, M/M, Possible Dubious Consent, Post-Canon, Post-Skyfall, handjobs, sex nightmare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 06:26:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23846677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oolongteawithpudding/pseuds/oolongteawithpudding
Summary: Bond learns how incessant Silva's presence really is.
Relationships: James Bond/Raoul Silva | Tiago Rodriguez
Comments: 4
Kudos: 29





	When your dream neurons fire all weird and reveal your repressed bisexual thoughts

The first thing James was aware of was the room he was in. Or, rather, the strangeness of it. The ceiling, the walls, and the floor were all made up of some dark grey cloudy substance. He could make out no exits or entrances, but something in him told him to trust this moment, to not get up out of the chair, to not try to escape the rope binding his wrists. The place had no sound that he could detect, but did he really care where he was right now? He felt… tranquil. It was like being pleasantly buzzed, or taking a few benzos. He shut his eyes for a moment, neurons firing distantly in his brain, telling him to stay sharp, but he paid it no mind. Suddenly, he felt a pair of hands rest on his shoulders. He immediately whipped his head around, and was met with the smiling face of Raoul Silva, or Rodriguez, or whatever he was going by these days. Bond hadn’t been successful in escaping the chair, since he’d not noticed the rope at his waist before. Silva dug his hands deeper into Bond’s shoulders, and his faint chuckle became a full-bodied laugh.  
“What’s so funny?” Bond broke the silence.  
Silva turned to face him. “You,” he chuckled, “this.” he grinned, gesturing at the kaleidoscopic space they occupied.  
“You’re supposed to be dead,” Bond spat.  
“Aw,” Silva smiled, dripping with false sweetness, “do I detect a hint of defeat in your voice, Mr. Bond?”  
“I’m not the one who was bloody defeated.”  
“Oh, you mean my death? Ha! It’s a pity, but did you honestly think I hadn’t chosen a successor long before this?” Raoul smiled, pulling up a chair out of the void..  
“We put an end to your whole empire.”  
Raoul smiled sympathetically, shaking his head. “No, James. As one would say, the show must go on.” He stood up, his chair disappearing under him. “But, enough of the business talk. You surely must know,” he strode carefully toward Bond, “why I’m really here.” he placed a single finger on Bond’s collarbone, tracing the line carefully.  
Bond swallowed tightly. “I don’t know what you mean.”  
Silva laughed. “It’s your own conscience! Think for a minute, come on, I’m sure you can guess.”  
Bond glared back at him. Sarcastic bastard.  
Silva raised an eyebrow, and continued what he was doing. He traced his finger along Bond’s jugular and up to his jaw, gently moving down his jawline and coming to a rest cupping his cheek. He tilted his head, looking James’ face up and down unashamedly. Bond met his gaze, his face set in an unchanging neutral expression.  
“Come now, Bond, don’t tense up on me now,” he said softly.  
“Where’ve you taken me?” said Bond, his voice strained.  
“Me?” Silva laughed heartily, “How could I take you anywhere? Think about it.” Silva smiled, pulling his hand away from James’ face in one swift motion.  
Bond scoffed. He was trying his best to hide that he still couldn’t think straight. Raoul’s intimidation games were something he had always been impressed by. He was ashamed to even think of the possibility that he was enjoying it.  
“Were you the one who tied me up?” he asked.  
“Which time?” Silva replied.  
“The first time,” James swallowed, “and now.”  
“Well, the first time, I had a mission to complete, and I frankly couldn’t be bothered to waste my time with a washed up agent.”  
“Funny, shouldn’t you hold yourself to that label as well?”  
Silva glared. “This time, I was the one to tie you. I do a much better job of it, wouldn’t you agree?”  
James took a second to shift against his restraints, and just then noticed his legs were tied together as well.  
“Well, I see you took MI6 boating training seriously.” James remarked.  
“Why let knowledge go to waste, hmm?”  
“If this was supposed to be your freedom, why are you still here with me?” James asked.  
“Why can’t I connect with an old friend?” said Silva.  
“That bored?”  
Raoul smiled. “Believe it or not, I want to see you. I like to see you tied up.”  
“Huh. I’d figured it was some fetish thing.”  
Raoul scoffed. “It’s for practicality.”  
“Look how successful it was last time.”  
Raoul looked Bond up and down. “Indeed.”  
He walked closer and closer to Bond, and sat down on his lap, face to face, arms around Bond’s bound shoulders. Bond was taken aback, but the ropes held him back from making any dramatic movements. All he could think about was the sudden press of body heat against him. The longer he stayed here, the more MI6 seemed to fall away from him, leaving him bare. He couldn’t keep his face steady this time, not since Silva had started to gently shift his shirt collar and adjust his tie.  
“Now you look presentable.” he said with a saccharine smile.  
“I thought you disapproved of 00’s.”  
“Oh, that’s not important,” said Silva, running his hand against Bond’s shirt fabric.  
James attempted to steady his breath and calm his shaking hands. But, he knew Raoul had spotted everything from the moment he cracked. He knew from the start that nothing would get past him, but he still tried to slow his heart rate as Raoul’s hands moved through his hair, down his chest, and rested at his bound waist.  
“I see you’ve kept fit since our last encounter,” said Silva, feeling the contours of his muscle. “Was this MI6 training as well, or just your own vanity?”  
Bond swallowed. At this point, he was just being teased, but he couldn’t make a jab back, as that would just egg Silva on. He could swear something in the air was making him dizzy, but that could just be Silva’s breath ghosting on his neck. He shifted in his seat, trying to get any sensation at all, but Silva grasped his shoulders and pinned him down with his sheer bodyweight. James wanted to smack the smug grin off his face, but he was hopelessly tied down.  
“I want you to listen to me very closely, James.” he took notice of a quickened pulse and flushed cheeks. “I can make you cum. But, I can take this away from you just as easily.”  
“I was under the impression that this was my conscience.”  
“But you’re still so helpless, aren’t you?” said Silva, almost delightedly.  
James sighed. “What if I did want this to stop?”  
“Your safeword is ‘awake’. But,” he moved his hands down to Bond’s waistband, “You don’t want to use that, do you?”  
Christ almighty, what was happening? How was he suddenly okay with his sworn enemy- his dead sworn enemy- having sex with him? How was he aroused by this? As Bond weighed the pros and cons, he felt a sucking pressure on his neck. He gasped, blinded by the stimulation.  
Raoul smiled. The first audible sound of pleasure. He savored it, nipping at the sensitive flesh of his neck as he moved his hands to James’ pants.  
“Already hard?” Raoul feigned surprise, “Mr. Bond, I’m flattered.”  
“Just get on with it.” Bond gritted his teeth.  
“Good to see you’re enjoying yourself.”  
Raoul unzipped Bond’s pants and wrapped his hand around his dick. Hm. Not as big as he imagined, but nowhere near unimpressive. That girth would feel delicious inside anyone. He wondered if Bond had ever let anyone fuck him, or if he’d just let his dick do all the work. Ah, well, no time to ponder that. He was quite happy with what he had in front of him, or, rather, under him. He spit on his hand, and brought it back down to Bond’s dick.  
“You’re going to leave hickeys if you keep doing that, you know.” said Bond.  
Silva laughed between kisses. “Oh, how classic of you to worry about hickeys while you’re getting a handjob from a terrorist.”  
“Don’t remind me.” James grumbled.  
“You need to relax.” Raoul bit down near James’ collarbone, earning a strangled yelp. “That’s better.”  
James could usually show restraint when he was with a partner, but his mind wasn’t letting him this time. His moans were more gasps at first, but, as he felt Silva grinding against him, restraint didn’t matter anymore. It was shameful how little time it took for him to become this excited, and it was even more shameful how much the thought of Silva pinning him down and fucking him turned him on. The more he struggled against his restraints, the more he was reminded of whose control he was under. As Silva undid the buttons to James’ shirt, he wondered if things might evolve. Silva swirled his fingers in the precum pooling at the tip of James’ cock, and brought them to James’ mouth. “Suck.”  
James obeyed mindlessly. Silva left his fingers in his mouth long enough for James to gag on them slightly. With a smile, Silva brought his hand back down to James’ cock, stroking faster than before.  
“Please,” James breathed heavily.  
“Please what?”  
“I’m about to cum, oh, god, pl-“  
Silva got up as swiftly as he had sat down. He met James’ look of shock and betrayal with a smile, and left him with four parting words.  
“Have fun with that.”  
He snapped his fingers, and James was suddenly awake in his London apartment with a very uncomfortable erection. Without much hesitation, he finished himself off, thinking of Raoul Silva the whole time.  
Afterwards, he lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, wondering what the hell had just happened.


End file.
